Promises
by Magical Shovel
Summary: Promises. We all make them. It's a daily aspect in our lives. Promises is a collection of short stories. Each chapter is a story. Each chapter is a promise.
1. A Protective Truth

_Promises_

**Disclaimer**: All characters from Repo! The Genetic Opera belong to creators, Terrance Zdunich and Darren Smith.

_**Chapter 1: A Protective Truth**_

"But Dad!"

"No, Shi."

"You promised!"

Nathan Wallace sighs as he pushes up his glasses. He rubs the bridge of his nose in sheer exhaustion. The world is dangerous. It is also undeniably cruel. He could not allow his daughter to be exposed to this.

"I know...."

Shilo looks heartbroken. Her small frame sinks with depression. Her brown eyes... Doe's eyes. _Marni's eyes_. The dark locks pool down below her shoulders. The frown is clear upon her face. She looks just like her mother... He could never let her go outside. God knows what would happen if he lost her too.

"Shilo, it's not safe!"

She shoots him a knowing glare, folding her arms together. It isn't fair. She was seventeen now. _Seventeen_and her father refuses to let her go outside. She is practically an adult, but she has been treated like a child. She's sick of it all. She wants to live, to be free, to see the world as it is meant to be.

"I've read books, Dad," She gave a mild eye roll.

The widower is leaning towards his more defensive nature. It was far too risky for her to be out. _She'll get worse. She'll get sicker if she leaves_. He narrows his green eyes at what else she has to say. Books? Books! He almost wants to laugh. It isn't in his nature to do so, however. his frown grows as he tentatively strokes her cheek.

"Shilo, honey, books can't prepare you for reality. Books are only there to educate and for leisure. Books can't truly captivate what it's like. I should know. Besides, you would need-"

He is sharply cut off by his daughter.

"-my mask and meds, I know."

She knows, but at the same she doesn't. She knows she needs her meds. She knows she needs her mask to filter the impure air. She only knows the world from books and her window. She lives a caged life for her own protection. At the same time, she does not know. She doesn't know what her father truly is. She doesn't know how cold he is when it comes to being a Repo Man. She doesn't know how cruel the world is. She doesn't know the taste of freedom...

_She just doesn't know._Nathan inwardly winces. He would be lost without her. He is already lost without Marni. Years.... It's been so many years. He tries his hardest to raise Shilo with the best intentions. He can't stand to lose her. He'll do anything that will ensure her stay... _For her own safety_. Nathan silently adds, squeezing his eyes shut. He's tense from everything.

"Dad... Are you okay?" Shilo notices the pain in her father's eyes. _Maybe he's not feeling well._ She thinks.

"Yes, I'm sorry. It's just- Please, Shilo. Don't do this. I've said it a hundred times. You can't go out. It's not safe. You'd need to keep track of your meds- your blood pressure. The world is a cruel place that will rip you apart. It will devour you as it jabs a knife deep inside your heart. The world ruins hopes and dreams..." The Repo Man begins to take control as Nathan sneers. He pushes away the dark side of his personality,"Promise me that you won't go out."

"I promise..."

He smiles, kissing her gingerly on the head. Nathan wishes her good-night. She sits on her bed, confused at her father's previous outburst. He knows. She does not.

She sits there, still confused.

It's a protective truth.

_Note:_ I hope you enjoyed this short story. I was originally going to wait to write this until after I finished with _Murder Is Crimson_. But... I've been writing _Promises_ nearly every day in my notebook. Also, I decided to go with present tense if you haven't noticed. ^^; I appreciate reviews/comments/reads.


	2. A Brotherly Pact

**Chapter 2: A Brotherly Pact**

They hate each other. They do not deny the fact. It is clear in their blue eyes. They hate each other with a burning passion. They meddle in one another's affairs. They shoot glares at one another when given the chance. One smirks. The other scowls.

The two brothers made a pact long ago that they fail to mention. It is only meant for their eyes, ears, and memories. It is embeded deep in their minds. They remember their younger years. Everything had been different.

In their dreams, it comes back so quickly. The scene ripples like a false illusion. They are young children again. Pavi is nine. Luigi is fourteen. They huddle in the cave they find in the woods. They tell each other of secrets and stories. This is their hideout- their getaway. The brothers smile and grin, laughing at their wild tales.

In the cave, they are able to be friends and brothers instead of bitter rivals. Though they are young, they talk about women, money, just about anything. When they leave this place, they become enemies once more.

"Luigi?" Pavi looks over to his older brother. The nine year old sits with his arms wrapped around his knees. He's much less confident than he is today.

"Yeah?" Luigi looks over at his brother. He lays on the cool ground. His arms are folded behind his head. There's a certain calmness about him... which is also strange.

"I-it won't be like this forever, w-will-uh it?"

The eldest pauses as he takes in a deep breath of fresh air. He's solemn as he tries to think of a way to answer the question as smoothly as possible.

"No." A single world. At least it's the truth, though. Neither deny it.

"Okay..." Pavi sighs, his cerulean gaze flickers towards the forest. He is beautiful in all aspects. He's still a child, however. "Can you,um, p-promise..." He sighs. Pavi is frazzled at his words. He tries to speak again, "Can you keep a-uh promise?"

Luigi lazily rolls over to look at his brother. He huffs lightly. Of course he can keep a promise. "Duh."

Smiling, Pavi nods. "This i-is the most fun I've ever had."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Here it goes, "No matter- no matter what we-uh do, no matter what we-uh become... we'll-uh... still be-uh friends. Even if-uh people think we're-uh not. Okay?"

"Agreed. But remember, GeneCo belongs to me!" Luigi grins wolfishly.

Pavi returns the grin, laughing as he gets up to flee.

"Hey Pavi!"

"Yeah?''

"I promise."

"Good! Me too." He beams, running off as Luigi chases after him.

It's their pact. The years have gone by, but the promise remains. They do not mention it. They do, however, acknowledge it. Now they are thirty and thirty-five years old. Their father is dying. Luigi walks down the hallway, wiping his gloved hands. It's obvious that he's committed a crime. Pavi comes out of his room, closing the door behind him. He brushes off his clothing. The sobs of a woman are ignored.

They meet each other's eyes with a chilling silence. The brothers look aruond the hallway, making sure no one else is there but them alone. They greet each other with a grin. Pavi and Luigi utter," I remember." They walk up to each with a firm hand shake.

"I promise," they whisper in unison.

They went their separate ways. It's a brothers pact that will never be broken.

_Note_: I decided to make this a happy chapter. There are many sad ones to come. This is just a different outlook on Pavi and Luigi. ... Each chapter is a different story. Different characters. In case you haven't figured that out, apologies. ^^;


	3. A Surgical Vow

**Chapter 3: A Surgical Vow**

She's nervous. What's worse is that she's afraid to admit it. Mag's hands shake. The grip on her cane tightens. Her jaw continuously locks. Every move causes her body to shake in anxiety. It's the dance of someone who is impatient. It's unlike her, but she can't help it. She feels Marni's slim hands rest upon her shoulders. Her body tenses, yet she relaxes knowing that her dearest friend is near.

"It's okay, Mag," Marni's voice is delicate and soft.

"I know, but..." She hesitates. Mag doesn't wish to admit her futile defeat.

"You're going to be all right. Think about it, after all these years... You'll be able to see! Won't that be wonderful?" Marni flashes a charming smile. Although Mag cannot see that smile, she can _feel_ it. To her, it's a ray of light beaming down on her. It puts her at ease.

"Yes," Mag admits. She doesn't want to point out the negative side of receiving the gift of sight. She'll be less attentive to her other senses. She'll see the world for what it truly is. She'll see both beauty and horror. She knows she'll be powerless towards the world's horrors. Worst of all, she knows something is going to happen to Marni. Call it intuition, but she senses it. She has unintentionally zoned out from Marni's little speech.

"...but best of all, you'll see for yourself. You will see everything and not just hear world is truly beautiful. "

"So are you."

Marni laughs sweetly. Mag smiles wryly.

"Oh Mag, you flatter me. I'm really not that beautiful."

Mag sighs softly. Marni is beautiful even if she denies it. Mag's not ready to start a fight over this again. Together they walk down the bland hallway. Their footsteps gently crunch on the glistening tile. A GenTern swaggers over to them, sashaying her hips in a seductive manner. A wheelchair is in her grasp. Who on Earth hires these women?

"Are you ready Miss. DeFoe?" The voice is soft with a certain falseness to it... The GenTern neither sounds nor looks real. There's something electronic about the tone. Mag notes this immediately. The nurse is but a doll to GeneCo. They're disposable.

Marni helps Mag into the chair for prep. She doesn't want this, but she doesn't have the heart to tell Marni that she would rather be blind. Her pale fingers tremble as she holds the cane. It slips out of her grip. The action causes her to purse her lips, though she forces herself to nod.

"You won't be needing this anymore, Mag." Her voice is seductive. It always is.

"But-"

"Shh," Marni leans forward, her warm breath lingers. "This surgical vow is for your own good. You'll have a much more successful life. Opportunities will knock at your door. A whole new world awaits you."

When Marni is like this, Mag can't protest. Naturally, Marni brims with confidence and passion. She refuses to see Mag's grim negativity. Positivity and negativity are a constant battle in their lives. Times like this, make them polar opposites.

Marni delicately plucks off Mag's dark shades, tucking them away in the pocket of her jacket. She smooths out her own white dress made of silk before flashing another smile. She nods to the bored GenTern.

"Ready?" Marni asks.

"Unfortunately."

She sighs, rolling her eyes.

"Marni?" Her tone is smooth, though she's scared. Her stomach performs flips and turns.

"Yes, Mag?"

"Hold my hand, please. I feel like this will be the last time we'll be close. After this, nothing will be the same."

"Don't be silly."

"Then, promise me, Marni. Promise you'll be there when I wake up."

"I promise." A serene smile dances across Marni's face. They hold hands as the GenTern wheels Mag down the holl, locks of hair bounce wildly. She rolls her eyes at the scene before her. The two friends merely smile.

_I must be brave... for this surgical vow. Yet, the worst is to come._ Mag winces at the thought, closing her blind eyes for one final time.


	4. A Sweet Promise

**Chapter 4: A Sweet Promise**

Rotti pinches the bridge of his nose in weariness. It always comes down to this. His daughter is relentless and manipulative. He knows this, but he gives her money anyway. It's cruel to think that he gives just so she'll shut up. It's undeniably true. She'll yap and whine the day away if he does not comply.

"Carmela-" Rotti begins only to be cut off by his daughter.

"Daddy!" She flourishes her arms in the air as if she were suffering a great crisis. Her hands rest upon his desk. Her blue eyes fill with scorn. Rotti's eyes reflect that - only it's a different type of scorn. He notes that the lengths of her dresses are growing shorter much to his distaste. She's bitter, "The surGEN screwed up. He didn't get my nose right. It's crooked!"

_It's just an excuse_, he thinks to himself. The sharp tone in his voice makes him wince. Rotti forces himself to look at his daughter, a possible heiress to the fortune. There's nothing wrong with her face. It's surgically perfect. She wants Zydrate. In order to get it, she needs surgery. He's read the tabloids, he knows. He sees her come home every night in a drunken manner. Rotti Largo is not a dumb man. He is intelligent. He waits for her to recover and fix her own mistakes. He won't do it for her.

Instead of money, he gives her advice, "Carmela, please be more sweet." It's a desperate attempt. Carmela arches a brow, blinking. It's obvious that she's confused. An idea begins to form in her mind. She wants to be famous, more so than she already is. She craves this. She wants to sing. This, she needs a stage name. It's not that she _needs_ one, but that she _wants_ one.

_Sweet..._ She thinks, musing with the word.

No amusement flickers on Rotti's face. He shifts in his leather chair. His daughter and himself are not on the same page. Carmela remains oblivious to this. She only sees him as one of many to supply her with what she desires. She only thinks of him as Daddy, the cash cow. He givers her the money. She runs off to get surgery. Then, there is Zydrate.

He sees his own children as monsters. All they ever do is take, take, take. It's clear they they have weathered him down. He gives and gives and gives! They repay him with spit. It infuriates him. _My own children...vultures._ He twinges at the thought. It's true. It's all _so_ true. Whenever he sees them on the media or in person, disgust and bile dwells within his soul. It's a shame. He can't control it. _My children are not worthy of my genes!_

"Promise me this."

"Yes, Daddy." She beams, flashing her inhumanely white teeth. Carmela sashays from side to side in impatience. Her hair is not a deep burgundy. Her fingernails match the dye's color. Her black heels click against the tile.

"Promise me," he sighs heavily in defeat. Rotti places a blank check in front of himself. He briefly turns his head away in repulsion. Amber's eyes spark. She practically foams at the mouth. The dog wants the bone. He signs his name, addressing the check towards a new surgery. "Promise me you'll be more sweet."

"Oh, Daddy! I will! I promise!" She gushes in an automated response. She always was a Daddy's girl.

The King has been defeated in this battle, "How much?" He asks as he sighs. _Why don't you take my soul as well, you vultures?_It's a sad admittance. Does Rotti Largo even have a soul? What is left of it, has died long ago. He's bitter. Of course, he is.

"Just forty-five grand."

_My God, they're going to suck me dry._ He waves the check in the air only for her to snatch it in a minute's notice.

_Sweet..._ Carmela thinks. It's a good stage name. She likes it. _Amber Sweet._

"I promise!" She loosely swings her arms around her father before gleefully skipping away.


	5. A Pinky Promise

**Chapter 5: A Pinky Promise**

She rests in her armchair, battered and bruised. Her thin frame sinks into the chair until she is nearly devoured by the monstrosity. She sighs in pure agony. It's clear that she is exhausted. It is a statement of the inevitable. Her left arm is tediously wrapped in a linen sling.

"Ow..." She winces. Her blonde locks gently cascade to her shoulders. Mascara is smeared from the relentless tears. Eye shadow mingles with bruises and coagulated blood. As she leans forward, she sobs. It's controllable. Her body shudders in the violent movement. She's in shock that she did it. She went through with it. _He's dead..._ She thinks. _He's dead._ The thought replays over and over in her mind.

She had been recently discharged from the hospital. GenTerns had quickly set her arm, barely acknowledging her shattered state. They had other things to worry about. Society overlooked most forms of abuse. The tears eventually turn into joyful ones. She's happy. _I'm free... All these years... I'm free...!_ Her sobbing converts into laughter. _Put a gun to his head and now he's dead._Her husband was abusive and reckless. She hopes that he burns in Hell. She wishes that he is tormented. She'll feel more satisfaction if the Devil shows no mercy to his dark soul.

"Mom...?" Her teenage daughter steps tentatively down the hall. The maniacal laughter from her mother frightens her. She can't admit that. _I must be brave..._Her slender hand rests on the white wall that is mingled with crimson splatter. The fifteen year old appears to be a younger version of her mother. She has the same blond hair and blue eyes. She, too, is battered and bruised. It's the result of her deceased, drunken father's ways. Her arms are bandaged due to the sharp glass of a beer bottle. It needed stitches, but she brushes off the idea. The scars would be a reminder to her.

"Yes, Kat?" By now, her fit of laughter begins to diminish. The mom shakily rises from the battered chair. She sways from the previous blood loss.

"Mommy..." She feels terribly childish for saying such a thing. Kat can't help it. She's frightened. She's at her wit's end. She has been quite for so long, too long. Every time she goes to school, she is brave. She puts on a bright face, suggesting that nothing is wrong. Nothing has happened. Everything is well at home. It's not. She needs her mom right now and vice versa. For years they have suffered. Now they are survivors of that abuse.

"Yes, Sweetie?" She walks to her daughter, wrapping her still functioning arm around her in an embrace. A hug. A reassuring one to guarentee their safety. Kat sobs against her mother's shoulder, whispering inaudible words. She needs the comfort.

"Promise..." She can't finish her sentence, because of her sobbing.

"Promise? What promise? Kat?" Her mother looks worried.

"I saw the- the news and-"

The mom frowns before arching a brow. What.... The news?! All of this is on the news?! She's shocked and horrified. This could ruin their lives... or save them. It depends on the swinging pendulum. But this also means... that the offer is on the broadcast as well. She has every reason to be frightened and nervous. She calms down her daughter with more comfort before tuning into the news.

"...And now comes a rather frightening tale." _It wasn't a god-damned tale. It was real, for Christ's sake!_ She angerly thinks to herself. The reporter shuffles his stack of papers. "After years of abuse, Stacy Poe puts an end to it. Her husband, Mack Poe, had verbally and physically abused her nearly everywhere. Surprisingly, when this happened in public, friends and relatives did not take action to help." _No one helped, because they were scared of him._ "On this particular night, her husband, Mack, had been drunk just like many nights ago. But when their daughter, Kat, had been hurt... had enough." _Sounds like a shitty soap opera._ Her thoughts were glum.

The reporter continued, "Being fatally injured, Stacy put a .44 caliber to his head...." It went on. "Stacy will not be charged for her crimes. This was seen as an action of defense against domestic violence. Let this be a lesson of abuse..."

Mother and daughter remain silent, listening to the broadcaster.

"Due to the violent nature her husband had delivered, Stacy was in dire need of a kidney transplant. Rotti Largo, head of GeneCo, showed great sympathy as he offered a transplant free of charge. This goes to show the wondrous man's giving nature. Not only did he offer a free transplant but a makeover as well for a small added fee-"

Stacy quickly flicks off the television. She hopes her daughter did not catch the last two sentences. No, she _prays_to God her daughter didn't hear those two lines. She hangs her head in shame, blond bangs hide her overbearing emotions.

"Mom...! _Surgery_?!" Kat knows her mother's opinions about surgery. _Don't get it unless you need it or else you might become a Scalpel Slut._ A kidney transplant was understandable because of well, everything... but a makeover as well? Cosmetic surgery does nothing good for you. It's vain. It displays a false image. A good seventy-five percent of the time, you tend to be beautiful before pursuing the knife.

"Kat," She begins slowly. "I'm a single mom now," Her voice is strained as she speaks. "I _need _this kidney transplant desperately. GeneCo just happened to show me sympathy. Don't worry about the small added fee-"

_But I'll look smashing on live TV..._ Stacy silently muses to herself. She's changed. In such a short amount of time, she had undergone change. She feels like she needs this surgery. She needs to feel beautiful again. It's more so out of necessity than luxury. Her daughter will understand. If not today, tomorrow. If not tomorrow, some day. Some day she _will_ understand.

"I don't care about that. It's the makeover I care about. Don't do it, Mom. Please don't. You'll end up like the people on TV."

_But that's what I want._ She thinks. Stacy sighs, "I won't. I promise."

"Pinky promise?" Kat's body still quivers from the adrenaline of tonight.

"Pinky promise." She agrees. They lock pinkies in this oath. Neither can sleep. They know that everything will change.

_Note:_Where did I come up with the names? The woman who plays Single Mom is Poe, a phenomenal singer. So, I took her name is used it as the basis of their last names. The names I thought suited them. Wow. I think... that this was the hardest story for me to write, emotionally. It was emotionally exhausting and painful. I don't believe that I can write another story about this harsh topic. But I felt that I needed to. This is an issue in our daily lives. Domestic abuse _**is not **_okay.


	6. A Constant Reminder

**A Constant Reminder**

Nathan Wallace is a normal man who lives a boring life. He's a surGEN. He saves lives. He does his job quite well and relishes the fact. Every night is the same, however. He has nothing to go home to. No one _to _go home to. He lacks a little thing called love. On the other hand, his friend, Rotti Largo, has someone to love. Her name is Marni. To be honest, Nathan knows little about her.

The doctor removes his surgical gloves. His most recent surgery is a success. He leaves the room with a bow of his head. For some reason, Rotti wants to see Nathan at his office. He doubts that it's a demotion. Every client he has had is well and alive.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Nathan raps upon the door. Rotti asks who it is. The surGEN responds. He is then permitted to enter.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Oh, no need to be so formal, dear friend. It's Rotti after work hours." The man behind GeneCo smiled. The smile will rarely grace his face seventeen years later. "But yes, I did. Are you up for a double date?" He chuckled warmly, "Well, a blinddate so to speak. Marni and I have found someone most suitable for you, Nathan! The woman's a _perfect_ match."

"But Sir-"

Nathan is cut off by Rotti, "You're coming and that's final."

It continues this way. They go to an Italian restaurant for dinner. The lights are dimly lit. Crystal wine glasses glint as they are lifted and clink as they are used for a toast. Warm laughter fills the room. The blind date is a GenTern. Nathan wants to roll his eyes in distaste, but he does not. Rotti is his friend. Nathan suffers through. The GenTern's conversation is anything but impressive. The words are bothersome. They become white noise. Rotti must have humored himself by thinking that a surGEN and GenTern would go well together...

Marni asks a simple question. Nathan looks up.

He's in love.

She's gorgeous. Her black hair cascades to her shoulders. Brown eyes - doe's eyes- are warm with laughter. He's lost in those eyes. It's a web, pulling him closer and closer-

"Nathan? Nathan?" Marni's voice is full of concern. Those eyes are so full of warmth. Her plump lips entice him. He snaps back into reality, clearing his throat. His cheeks flush as he turned his head in embarrassment. _I should have been paying attention._ He thinks to himself.

"Yes, Miss-"

"Please, call me, Marni."

"I'm so sorry," Nathan flushes once more.

Marni laughs, "It's okay. I asked you a question, Nathan."

_Oh, please don't say my name again._ Each letter seems carefully sounded out. It's music to his ears. It's sensual. Enticing... He shakes his head, desperate to remove these thoughts from his once simplistic mind. "Oh- I'm sorry." He apologizes once more. "What was it?"

"I asked you how work was." She laughs once more. It's a rich, heavenly sound. "Here, let me ask again." The woman is a saint for having so much patience. "How was work, Nathan?"

"Good." His cheeks are still tinted crimson. "Very good. Thank-you for asking," Nathan quickly adds. Inwardly, he punches himself. He beats himself up. _Foolish... So foolish._He is frustrated that he couldn't think of anything better or more clever to say. He's a medical prodigy, yet he can't think of something worthy of intelligence. It's bitter irony. None the less, the conversation continues. Rotti blabs on about something new that GeneCo promises to deliver. A new bill is in dire need of passing - so he says. It's something about organ repossession. Marni continuously shoots Nathan coy looks. Rotti remains oblivious to this.

The dinner and night finally come to an end. They all pile in the limo. The GenTern looks bored. After dropping off their dates, Nathan is alone with Rotti in the car. He's nervous. He turns to face Rotti.

"Sir?"

Rotti sighs. It's no use. Nathan is just so formal and polite... He ignores the 'Sir'. "Yes, Nathan?"

"I-uh..."

"Well? Get it out, my friend!" Rotti laughs joyously.

"No matter what happens..."

"Go on."

"We'll remains friends as well as workers." _So I hope, but I don't think it'll end that way. More like bitter workers and rivals..._

"Is that all?" _Why, that's so simple... I wonder why on Earth Nathan brought this up?_ The older male is all the more intrigued by this.

"No. Promise me this, S- Rotti." Nathan looks directly into his boss' eyes. Something different lurks there. Something... dark... or sad? Rotti cannot distinguish it.

"Such a strange request, Nathan. Are you feeling well?"

The surGEN inwardly winces, nodding.

"I'm fine. Please, though."

"Very well. I promise. There?" He shakes hands with Nathan. "Good-night. I'll see you at work." Rotti chuckles as Nathan leaves the car.

"Good-night, Sir."

He feels petty for not telling the complete truth. Not only this, but he feels insecure. He's in love - with Marni. Beautiful Marni... who happens to be Rotti's fiancee. Nathan feels weak and small as he stumbles into his home. He shakes his head with the overwhelming emotion. Love has the tendency to conquer all. Did the same emotion lurk in Marni's eyes or was it coy seduction? He hoped that it was the first rather than the second part of the question.

A constant reminder floats in Nathan's mnd, _You hurt your friend and he'll hurt you_.

Nothing will be the same.


	7. A Lover's Embrace

**Chapter 7: A Lover's Embrace**

Love is an emotion like no other. It empowers all. With its positivity, there is a negative side. It is considered to be dark and even gruesome. It can become an obsession of possession. Love has the tendency to attract lust. Lust attracts jealousy. Jealousy attracts revenge. For now, however, there is solely love.

It's visible in their eyes. It's traceable in their voices. Their hearts swell with the feeling. They believe that it is _true_ love. It's mean to be. Forever and ever. 'Til death tears them apart.

She's happy. He's happy. They've never felt this way about anyone else... until now.

They have a baby (or soon they will have a child). A home. Love. What more could they possibly ask for?

Surprisingly, it's a beautiful day. The sun gleams brightly in all its pride and glory. On this day, the impure air does not ruin the bright, blue sky. The clouds are white and fluffy as they depict various shapes. The lovers lay on the vibrant, green lawn.

Marni rests her head on Nathan's chest. A smile is detectable on her face. Oh yes, she's quite content in his arms. Nathan gently, yet protectively sweeps an arm around Marni. His orbs are half-lidded like that of a feline's. A lazy smile crosses his features.

"I love you, Marni," his voice is but a soft whisper.

"I love you, too, Nathan." The tone of her voice sounds as if it's been dipped in honey. Warm. Sweet. Soothing.

_I'm going to be a father in just a few months..._The smile grows as the thought occurs to him. "She's going to be beautiful, Marni. She'll look just like you." He's proud already. Nathan beams from ear to ear. They already know that it's a girl. Medicine truly is a wondrous discovery.

Marni laughs. It's such a rich and inviting sound, "Oh, but I'm sure she'll have your features as well, Nathan. She'll be intelligent just like you."

They continue to ponder about how or what their daughter will be like in the upcoming future. Things are left to the imagination. She'll have her mother's eyes and hair. She'll have her father's wits. She'll have much, but at the same time she will have so little.

Something occurs to Marni. Call it a woman's intuition, but something began to bother her. Something is telling her that she will not be alive to see her daughter bloom.

She sighs softly.

She lays there in his arms, "Nathan, do you love me?"

"Deeply."

"Will you always be there for me?"

"Of course I will." It's the simple truth.

"Promise me that you'll be there for her when I'm gone. Promise me that you'll protect her. Don't let her see the world for what it really is."

Nathan is nervous. Normally, Marni is so carefree. _Is she leaving me? No, that can't be._ He shakes his head at the bitter thought. _She would never do that to me... If she did..._ A darker voice pushes it's way through the crowd. Nathan pushes it back with a frown. He's right. She would never leave him. However, he does not think of the other way one can leave a person - by death.

"Oh Marni, you know the truth. I'll always be there for you and our child. Whatever it takes to keep her safe."

"But Nathan, _promise_ me."

"I promise."

Those words continue to echo through his mind in this lover's embrace.


	8. A Funding Promise

**Chapter 8 : A Funding Promise**

He needed his spine transplant desperately. Hospitals showed no sympathy. It was something already seen in the books. None of the people dared to look. One bio-tech company offered his cure. He was in a tight spot. Daniel Kyte accepted.

Daniel's life shattered before his eyes. He has lost something of great importance to him. It feels as if a chunk of his heart is missing. That large part can never be replaced. His family was untimely stolen away from him. He has never met his grandparents since they are dead. During his high school years, his parents died in a car crash. It's only ironic that both his daughter and wife are also taken away by a car crash. Drunk drivers were to blame. Now Daniel has a grudge against those who drink themselves silly. He hates them. They're the monsters of this world. They think they can drink their troubles away, _but they're wrong_.

He remembers sitting in the bed. White sheets. White walls. White lights. White wardrobe. White linen bandages. _I must be in the crazy house.... Or.... _His voice lingers. _This is Heaven. I doubt it. My kid... My wife. If it was, they would be here. This is just a morbid version of Limbo. God, do you have no pity? Hell, if you even exist? _He tries to speak out, but his throat is dry. His mouth feels like a desert. His fingers weakly lift, edging towards the buzzer to signal for help and/or need. He sees the bandages, but still he doesn't see his spouse or child.

A GenTern rushes to his aid in the nick of time. She hops with each step, oddly impatient. Her unruly, blonde hair bounces as she clucks her tongue, "Now honey, ya shouldn't be stressing yourself out. You just had a spine transplant. It could give. Ya gotta be careful. Boy," She whistles lowly. "Mistah Largo sure was kind ta give ya that new spine. 'Specially with the new bill.... Also a shame about your family. Terribly sorry 'bout that Mr. Kyte."

Internally, he screams. _Again.... God, why do you torment me so? _His body gently shakes with convulsions. He cannot talk. Tears silently slip down his cheeks. The white room begins to spin. It's similar to water paints. Once you add water, it will wash away or stain. Everything is gray and shady. Finally, the room faded to black.

It's now become a painful memory to Danny as he sits in the waiting room. He laces his fingers together, hazel eyes shutting tight. His body shakes as if he's going to go into another fit of tears. They do not come. He's learn that crying doesn't help anymore. It only brings more pain. More pain is bad. He doesn't want to turn to Zydrate. He would rather feel pain, agony, and emotion than 'nothin' at all.'

Mr. Kyte is waiting to have a _private chat_with Rottissimo Largo. Of course it's about his fees. Naturally, he's lost all his money due to insurance. Why? The damned drunk had the nerve to sue _him_. Why? Because the lousy fellow had a case of whiplash. This is ignorance at it's best. People carry on with their own lives and don't pay any attention nor concern to anyone else. As humans, we're conceited. Prideful. Vain. A big box of sins ready to go.

_I don't have the money._

His eyes flicker to the forever ticking clock.

_I DON'T have the money._

Again.

_I DON'T HAVE THE CRAPPY MONEY._

He's ready to break, but he can't. Daniel has to stay strong for the sake of his beloved. Even though they're no longer with them... they will be. In spirit. Another memory quickly flutters by. Junior year of high school.

He remembers looking at his parents alive and well. The kitchen walls were a beige tint. Beautiful counter tops. Shiny stove. A cozy little home. Daniel just finished his breakfast as well as his parents. He has to catch the bus or else he'll be late to school. It's the same thing that happens to teenagers on a daily basis. His parents flash grins and smiles at him, edging him to hurry or he'll be late.

"C'mon Danny boy! Get your bag or else you'll be late!" His father's still grinning. Clean brown hair. The same hazel eyes. Brown suit. Work doesn't start for another half hour for him.

"Honey, listen to your father. Oh! Don't forget to take your lunch." Smiling sweetly, she hands him the brown paper bag.

That was the last time he saw them. When he returned from school, they were dead. The police were waiting for him at their doorstep. His father picked up his mother to run some errands at the store. A drunk driver collided into their car. It was his first heart-wrenching moment. Daniel never thought he could feel so much pain and discomfort until now. Even now the spine that was not his did not feel right. There was a certain ache to it. What did they call it when a person lost a limb, but it felt like it was still there? It was a phantom feeling. This spine did not belong.

A GenTern swings open the door, looking at the sorrowful widower. "Mr. Largo is ready to see you, Sir."

He can only nod. What else is he to do? He feels like he is not in his body as if he is watching from above. He stands, he walks. He enters the office in his disheveled state. He's oh so exhausted that he sways. Rotti Largo shows concern- to his paperwork.

"Sir, you wanted to see m-"

"Oh, yes. Daniel Hyde, was it?"

"No, Kyte, Sir." _It's ridiculous to address him with 'Sir' every time I speak like he's a military captain. He's a King. GeneCo's King. So, I have to treat him with the utmost respect or it's off with my head. _Daniel inwardly chuckles at the lame pun in his mind.

"Kyte? What an unusual first name."

Daniel rolls his eyes. Rotti's oblivious. He clears his throat, blabbering on about the Bill. No one calls it by it's name. Only 'The Bill' or by it's number. It's the Organ Repossession bill. It's legal and well-known. Repo Men are well-known, too. They're a living legend. They deliver those keen incisions with unscathed organs.

"....so you see, Mr. Kyte, time is running out."

"I know, Sir."

"You have a few days left."

"I know, Sir." _He continuously states the obvious. Let me die. I want to see them. God, I miss them. Why, God, why didn't you take me with them? _Something inside of Daniel, makes him regret thinking that. His family wouldn't want him to think so morbidly. They would want him to be upbeat, but he can't. _I'll go to Hell for saying that._ He thinks. _I've got to hold out. For them. Keep living. For them._

"I can't extend your ninety days any more. The Bill...."

"I understand, Sir."

"Oh, Mr. Hyde-"

"It's Kyte, Mr. Largo."

"Mr. Hyde," Rotti clears his throat. "I do hope you will be able to pay. Or else you will me an _untimely_demise. We wouldn't want that now, would we? No, I didn't expect that." Daniel nods every now and then just to let Mr. Largo know that he is alive. "I can offer you no more funds, unfortunately. The accident was quite a startle to you." Daniel winces. It was more than a startle. It's a living, breathing agony. Rottissimo Largo has truly become an emotionless blob. Again, he inwardly chuckles. Rotti IS a blob.

"Mr. Largo, I whole-heartedly promise that I shall have the money by the time my ninety days are up. No Repo Man shall be knocking on my door or following me down a corridor.I intend to keep a promise to my deceased wife and daughter. I will continue to live and make up for their lost lives. I miss them terribly. I understand that you've shared similar heartbreak. Therefore, I WILL have the money." Defiance glimmers in Daniel's eyes as he walks off, head hung high.

Rotti remains in his chair, too stunned to react. That man hit a nerve. He was gunning at Marni. Marni. Rotti killed her. Not Nathan Wallace. Rotti Largo. A cold-hearted killer. Wouldn't the tabloids love that? _I see Mr. Kyte keeps an eye on the news... We'll just see if he intends to keep his promise. _He muses.

Daniel mutters under his breath, "GeneCo is a plague to our age."

_- ~ -_

Promises are evidently made for they are oaths to one another. They are vows that should not be broken. Naturally, we make them. It is a part of us that makes us human. These promises occasionally tinker with are feelings and dwell quite heavily in our hearts. It is often the source of heart-break and pain. Nonetheless, we continue to make promises. For one they are fulfilled, there is a great satisfaction. When they remain hanging in Limbo, they contain a unique mystery.

However, sometimes promises are broken. They become.... _lies_. They are foul and terribly cruel.

- ~ -

_Note:_ I would like to thank all of my readers and the reviews. I'm truly sorry that this chapter came out so late. The end of July was very busy for me. Again, thank-you.


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